


Walk The Line

by octothorpetopus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Dark Diego Hargreeves, Depression, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, Diego Hargreeves-centric, Drug Abuse, Drug Addict Klaus Hargreeves, Gen, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-27 11:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octothorpetopus/pseuds/octothorpetopus
Summary: Diego Hargreeves isn't suicidal. Not quite.





	Walk The Line

Diego stared down, down, down, into the dark space between the streetlamps. His legs dangled over the edge of the roof, unconsciously swinging back and forth. The sun had almost completely disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving just the barest traces of orange at the edge of the violet-blue sky. Stars blinked out of the darkness a few at a time, fewer and fewer over the years as the atmosphere filled with smog. Diego didn't mind. It wouldn't hurt him in his lifetime.

Somewhere below him, someone whistled cheerfully. For a brief moment, Diego considered whipping a knife at them. Cheerfulness seemed out of place at the moment. For the last several moments. More or less in the three years since Five had disappeared, happiness had seemed a tiny blip at the other end of the galaxy, just past the stars, unreachable, almost invisible. But he held onto the knife, turning it over in his scarred and callused hands. Whoever had decided to hand a four-year-old a set of throwing knives and set them free had to be crazy. To be fair, Reginald probably was crazy. That seemed like the only explanation. Gently, Diego ran a hand over the scars marring his face, some over a decade old, one less than a day. It was by far the longest, stretching from behind his right ear all the way to just below his eye. A half-dozen butterfly bandages were scattered up and down the mark, placed lovingly by Grace with gentle, vaguely metallic touches. It had been a mistake, that was all. At least, that was what he told her. He missed his mark, and it ricocheted back to hit him.

No one bothered to mention that Diego never missed, unless it was on purpose.

He shook his head, like he was trying to clear the cobwebs. He was what, three stories up? Below, it was nothing but cold, unforgiving pavement, and the forgiving release of death. He didn't _want _to jump. All hope wasn't lost. Life wasn't pointless. It would just be... easier. Less complicated. No more missions, no more endless training, no more Dad breathing down his neck and Luther being number one and the Eternal Shitshow. He could just end it. Close the curtains. Take his final bow and let all the rest go.

He wouldn't do it, though, would he? Being reckless with weapons was one thing. Making that decision, actively deciding to jump, that was too much responsibility. Besides, he doubted the others could handle losing another kid. Five had been gone three years, but bringing up his name still made the room fall silent. He couldn't risk what it might do to the team, to the family. Even Luther would probably start giving a shit if Diego jumped off the roof.

Diego noticed, with an unsettling calmness, that he was now standing on the edge of the roof, his bare feet frozen on the cold stone. The tips of his toes extended just beyond the brink. A simple shift of his weight and he'd fall. That was all it would take. Part of his mind was screaming at him to move, move anywhere else, just _get away from the edge! _The other half was barely a whisper, but it still seemed so much louder than the screaming, telling him to just let gravity take its course. Diego swayed slightly, side to side, left to right, weighing his options. And then the roof door opened behind him, startling him so badly he might have lost his balance and toppled over onto the concrete three stories below if not for the hand that grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him backwards so quickly and with such force it might have been the hand of God pulling him back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Diego had fallen flat on his back (still on the roof, thankfully), and he opened his eyes to see a pair of wide green eyes staring down at him, framed by a wild mess of brown curls. Klaus. Definitely not God.

Diego ignored the question and sat up, wincing at the pain where he had hit his shoulder in the fall. There would definitely be a bruise there tomorrow. With his back to Klaus, he wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling himself into a ball.

"Go away."

"Dude, what were you- you were- were you going to- Jesus." Klaus sat down next to him, tapping his black-painted fingernails against the ground uncertainly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Like I said, just g-go aw-w-w-" Diego cut himself off with a snarl, leaping to his feet. "Just fuck off, would you?" He sat back down where he had been, on the edge of the roof overlooking the street. The whistling next door started up again. _"Shut the hell up before I come down there and shut you up myself!" _A bony, long hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Klaus took a seat next to him, his legs dangling just below Diego's.

"I miss him too, you know."

"Who?"

"Five."

"It's not about him."

"Of course it is. He was the only one of us you thought really 'got you'. And now he's gone, and you don't think anyone understands how you're feeling. Luther's got Allison, Ben's got me, and Vanya... well, she's sort of out of the equation, isn't she? But you and Five, you were both outsiders, but you were outsiders together."

"Thanks for rubbing it in, Klaus. Good talk, man." Diego moved to stand, but Klaus grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back down.

"All I'm trying to say is... you don't have to be an outsider, D. Because, in a way, these abilities make us all outsiders. But we're still a family, as dysfunctional and hellish as it may be. You're my brother, and it doesn't matter that I talk to dead people or you throw knives really well- I love you. We all love you. And you love all of us, even though you refuse to admit it." Klaus pulled his brother into a one-armed hug.

"Thanks, I guess," Diego grumbled.

"Tell you what. I was going to sneak out tonight, maybe hit a club or rave or something. Come with me. Just you and me, no Luther to outdo, no Ben being a worrywart. We'll be, I don't know, normal." For the first time in what felt like forever, Diego smiled, and leaned into Klaus's hug.

"Sounds like a plan." They got to their feet, Klaus's thin frame shivering in the cool night air. "I really mean it, Klaus. Thank you. You don't know what it means." Klaus turned around and smiled a little sadly as he headed for the door.

"Yeah. I do."


End file.
